The expression ‘OUR MONEY!’ or some variation of it has hurled itself out of your mouth before. This is not being alleged. It’s not being assumed. I am asserting that once, twice, you’ve found yourself scowling at a situation, the government, a bad seat in the taxi, a ghastly book and yelling “My money!” It can be used to protest anything really, as will be seen 130 words from now.

In its purest form, the one most unaffected by the constraints of language, this phrase is a feeling. This is not gibberish; don’t put down your paper yet. When indignation mixes with self-righteous anger and wounded pride, it creates the perfect foundation for this phrase. Because you’re flustered and angry, you can’t come up with a suitably acerbic remark so you bristle and blubber and finally, just so the moment doesn’t pass you by, you scream, ‘My money!’

This year came with promises, with an itinerary of things that were supposed to happen or stop happening. Now that these things haven’t happened/stopped, we should be annoyed. We should march to city square and throw a big tantrum until somebody comes and placates us. Here are some of the things that we’ll almost certainly be yelling about.

Drought: First of all, hahahaha. I promised I’d do that. The Ministry of Disaster preparedness people must not be feeling very smart right now. They must spend whole meetings staring at the floor, catching each other’s eye by mistake and bursting into tears. Where is our drought? A lot of people spent fortunes on tiny sundresses and fish-net kanzus and the dry spell, the one that all serious Ugandans were supposed to collect water and food for, lasted for all of two weeks. Also, sunscreen is forty bob. My money!

Facebook: How come Facebook is still open? 15th March came and went and all they’ve done is create some application that badgers you into making the site your homepage. Many journalists were looking forward to documenting the city wide devastation, the loss of hope, the campus-wide depression. That stuff would’ve been fodder for great stories, man. Journalism awards would’ve been won, countless documentaries would’ve been created, and people would start using the post office again. But see.

Democracy: Whether or not this was achieved this year is subject to rigorous debate, the sort that you can find on the Ideologue facebook page. Be warned that most people there will be yelling ‘our money!’ and if you go there with your no-listen-actuallys, you may be given a lot of grief.  No. This isn’t true. The people who frequent that page are intellectuals who like to comprehend and debate stuff. The ones who’ll cut their limbs off before consenting to try to comprehend anything are all in some University in Masaka.

Lolcats: The internet, for a time, seemed to have moved on from kitties. Before this time however, cats were the in thing. Dancing furballs quaffed whole chunks of peoples’ time and were probably the reason that companies started blocking websites like youtube. This year, things were supposed to change.  This might have been accomplished if the lolcats Bible hadn’t been put up on Facebook by some enthusiast. Kitties are bigger than ever now and this bible is actually hilarious. So we’re laughing, and reading the bible more than ever, but our standards have suffered for this. So on behalf of standards, our money!

Bruno mars: A grenade was supposed to have totaled this guy. He even said that he’d grapple with one for me on the radio (and be defeated, obviously since he’s no superhero). The man is still alive and singing. After subjecting us to four minutes of that horrid song, the least he can do is keep his promises.

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